


Through the Eyes of Children

by CompletelyDifferent



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-23
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompletelyDifferent/pseuds/CompletelyDifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re perfectly normal kids, for the most part. They go to school, they play in the park, and half the time, they’re utterly confused by their parents.  Maybe one day they’ll save the world, but for now, they’re just trying to understand it. (Post-Endgame)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Eyes of Children

**Chapter One: Lian**

Lian is glaring at her teacher. It's actually more of a pout, but she _thinks_ its a glare. She’s been practicing in the mirror. Soon she’ll have it at Batman levels, she’s sure. She’ll be able to make people quake in their boots.

Her teacher, Ms. Keats, isn’t swayed, however. She’s staring down at her, a disapproving frown on her face.

“It’s not nice to hurt people, Lian,” she says.

“But they were being mean first!”

Ms. Keats nods. “Yes, I heard them teasing you. That wasn’t very nice, either. But that didn’t mean you should have hit them like that. You could have really, really hurt them.”

Realizing that her glare isn't doing anything, Lian looks down at the floor. “So?”

“So? Hurting people is bad, Lian! Use your words, not your fists, okay? Come to me if anyone is being mean, and I’ll stop it. Hurting people just makes things worse.”  
“But super-heroes hurt people all the time!”

Ms. Keats frowns. “Super-heroes only hurt people who deserve it. They hurt criminals who do things much, much worse than teasing. And super-heroes don’t do it to cause pain, but to keep the criminals from hurting other people. It’s very, very different. 

“So what we’re going to do,” Ms. Keats says, continuing on, “is we’re going to go back into the classroom. You’re going to apologize to Joe and Steve, and they’re going to apologize to you. Then I never want to see you three fighting ever again, okay?”

“Okay,” Lian mumbles. She isn’t happy about it, though.

They go outside into the classroom. It’s empty, except for Joe and Steve, who are sitting on chairs, looking bored and angry. She knows the feeling. Everyone else is out in the playground, having fun, and because of them, she’s been stuck in here. It’s not fair.

Ms. Keats makes them shake hands and apologize. 

“Sorry, Joe. Sorry, Steve,” she says, in a tone as flat as she can manage.

“Sorry Lian,” they both say, matching her tone.

“Will you three be doing that again?”

“No, Ms. Keats,” they all say in unison. 

They glare at each other. Steve has a bruise blossoming over his right eye. Joe is still rubbing his jaw. Lian thinks that it’ll be fear of her, not Ms. Keats, that will stop them from fighting her again.

There isn’t a lot of time left in the day. They only get five minutes more of play time; that’s not even enough time for a proper game of tag. Then the whole class has to go inside, sit down and read a story together (Green Eggs and Ham, _boring_ ) and then they have a sing-along. After that, the bell finally rings. Everybody bursts into a flurry of conversations, and hurries to grab their bags as their parents and baby sitters begin to arrive. 

Lian spots her dad’s familiar red-hair through the window, but what really makes smile is the sight of Abbey with him. Her little cousin’s here. The kid’s really little and kind of annoying, but Lian can’t help but like her, anyway. 

“Hey Dad!” she says as soon as they enter the classroom. “Hey Abbey! Are we going home?” she asks, because she really hopes they’re not, but she knows she’s not allowed to talk about the Watchtower in public.

“Nope,” Dad says, ruffling her hair. It’s red, though not as bright as his. “Got all your stuff, honey?”

“One moment please, Mr. Harper,” Ms. Keats says, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Even in the thickest crowds, she can see everything. It’s all part of her teacher-sense, Lian guesses. “Lian got into a little bit of trouble today.”

“What did she do?” Daddy says, immediately becoming serious. 

“She got into a fight with a couple of boys.”

“It wasn't my fault!” Lian protested. Daddy glances down at her for a moment, and then turns back to the teacher.

“Did she hurt anyone?”

“Not seriously, though if I had gotten there later, she might have. We had a conversation about how it’s better to use words than fists.”

“I see. I might be having a similar conversation with her tonight.”

Ms. Keats nods, looking satisfied. It’s all Lian can do not to sigh. She doesn't want to have another one of those boring talks. She already said she was sorry! What more do they want?

“Also, Mr. Harper, you might want to change her TV habits. I don’t think the news is really appropriate at her age.”

“The news….?”

“Yes. Kids can have trouble….understanding the actions of super-heroes. Idolization can go a bit far, sometimes, and the violence can set bad examples.”

“Ah. Right. Of course.” Dad’s expression is unreadable as he turns to the two little girls. “Come on, Lian, come on, Abbey. We have to get going. Thank you, Ms. Keats.”

They bustle out of the classroom and through the playground, dodging other groups of children and parents. It seems that after finishing her conversation with Dad, Ms. Keats went on to capture Steve’s Mom for a similar one. The boy looks about as miserable as she just did; more so, because _he’s_ the one who got a beating, not her. Lian can’t help but grin wickedly at him; as they pass, Steve catches her smile, and glances away, nervous. 

Abbey catches the exchange, and she stares at the boy’s bruised eye for a long time “Did you do that to him?” she whispers.

“Yep.”

“Wow.” Abbey’s quiet for a moment. “A real fight. What was it like?”

Abbey’s seen fights before, of course, both real ones and practice ones. But that's always been between the adults. This is better, somehow, even if it was just between two stupid boys on the playground, and no some evil super powered freak or giant robot. Lian can still remember the adrenaline and power surging through her, the satisfying crack as her fists had collided with the boys’ faces. It had been fifteen times better than just watching. 

"Pretty boring," Lian whispers back, trying to be casual about it. "They weren't very good.”

"Wow," Abbey says again.

By then they’re half-way through the parking lot, and have arrived at Dad’s car. Lian hops easily up into the back-seat, but she has to wait for Dad to strap Abbey into her kid’s seat before they can go. Lian’s a big girl, and doesn't need one anymore. She even gets to strap her seat-belt in all by herself.  


Dad waits before everyone’s strapped in and the car has pulled out of the school’s parking lot before he begins the inevitable conversation.  


“That boy you two were whispering about. Was he one of the ones you got into a fight with?”  


Lian’s amazed that he managed to hear their hushed conversation; sometimes she wonders if he actually does have super-senses. She knows there’s no point denying it. “Yes.”  


“One of them had a black eye.”  


“Yes.” She can’t help but let a little bit of pride slip into her voice. Dad catches on immediately.  


“Don’t you go sounding proud of yourself, young lady! You’re not supposed to go around, punching people in the face! Not only is it dangerous and wrong, it’s totally irresponsible. Do you understand me?”  
“

Yes, Dad.”  


He sighs. “Why did you get into a fight with them, anyway?”  


“They were teasing me.”  


“What about?”  


“My hair.”  


Lian’s the only red-head in her class. Usually, she loves her red-hair; it’s just like matches both Dad’s and his Red Arrow costume. Not all the kids in her class like it, though. Sometimes they tease her. She’s been called all sorts of mean and rotten names; carrot top, bloody head, fire crotch. She didn't even _understand_ that last one, but it had hurt all the same. Even after making those stupid idiots eat their words (and her fist), the taunts rang in her head, making her blood boil.  


“I see.”  


“I know. You think I’m being stupid.” She’s heard it plenty of times, from Ms. Keats and on the cartoons. _‘Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me’_ and all that junk. She knows she’s not supposed to care what people say about her, but she does anyway.  


“No. No I don’t. That wasn't very nice of them, and you were right to get angry.”  


“Really?”  


“I said you were right to get angry, not to beat them up,” Dad explains. “Listen, girls. I want to tell you a very important story. Did you know that Aquaman was made fun of for _his_ hair colour when he was a kid?”  


“What?” Abby squeals.  


“No way!” Lian says. “Aquaman’s _blonde_.”  


“Yes, he is. But when he was growing up, the people in Atlantis thought that people with blond hair… weren't as good as other people, kind of like how some of your class mates don’t like your red hair.”  


“That’s stupid,” Lian says. Abby nods in agreement. She’s twirling her strawberry-blonde pony tail around a finger, looking awed and kind of worried.  


“Yes, it was very stupid. And you know what else? A lot of people disliked Kaldur and La’gann because they looked more like fish than humans.”  


The two girls frown, though for different reasons.  


“Kal doesn’t look like a fish,” protests Abbey.  


“He has gills,” Dad points out.  


“What are gills?”  


“It’s what let fish- and some Atlanteans- breathe under the water.”  


“Okay.” Abbey nods in that serious way of hers, like she’s squirreling that information away in the back of her brain for later.  


“But here’s the important thing. Even though a lot of people were being mean to them for very stupid reasons, they didn't let their anger get the better of them. They proved how good they were, without fighting. Even with everything against them, Aquaman managed to become king, and Kaldur and La’gaan became two of his closest students. Do you think you can try and be like them?”  


Lian nods, and so does Abbey, even though _she’s_ not the one in trouble.  


“Do you promise?” Dad insists. Maybe he didn't see them nod from the front seat, or maybe he just wants to be extra sure.  


“Yes! I promise!” Lian means it, she really does. She doesn't know Aquaman, Kaldur or La’gann very well; they’re all very busy, and Kaldur especially seems kind of gloomy and serious. They’re pretty cool though. Lian got to watch them take down a giant octopus monster down at the docks once. _That was awesome_. She wouldn't mind being like them at _all_.  


“Okay. But listen; if I hear about you getting into fights again, I won’t let you come to training sessions anymore.”  


“Aww, Dad! I already promised! Besides, I don’t even learn from the training sessions.”  


“Oh really?”  


“Yep.” It’s not really a lie, as far as she sees it. While Lian watches tons of training sessions, hardly anyone ever tells her anything about how to fight, even when she asks. A lot of the things in the mock fights are useless, anyway; what is she meant to do with tips on incantation recitation or flight technique, whatever that stuff means? If she learns anything from the training session, it’s mostly from watching people like Black Canary or Nightwing, and repeating their moves on her own. It’s hard, though, because she can’t always tell what she’s doing wrong or right. For that, she has her own special teacher. “Mommy’s the one who teaches me.”  


“What? _When_?”  


Lian shrugs. “She drops by, sometimes.”  


“How often is ‘sometimes’?”  


Lian shrugs again. She’s not really sure. She doesn’t keep track. Watching Dad’s expression in the mirror, he looks kind of angry, but mostly frustrated, like when she forgets to make her bed, but way worse. “When was the last time you saw her?”  


“Ummm…” Lian says, scrunching her face up as she thinks. “Friday, I think? You were sleeping.”  


Dad makes a sound a lot like Wolf’s growl.  


“Oooh, when is she coming back?” Abbey asks, kicking her legs with excitement. “I want Aunt Chesire to teach me, too!”  


“Aunt Jade,” Dad corrects, automatically. “And she isn’t going to be teaching either of you anything. Lian, next time you see your mother, you come and get me, even if I am sleeping, okay? And if I’m not there, go find Aunt Artemis or, or somebody.”  


“Okay,” Lian says. She’s not sure if she means it. She doesn't get to see Mom very much, but she likes it when she does. But Mom and Dad don’t always get along, and it can be kind of scary when they fight.  


The rest of the drive passes in silence. Dad seems to be thinking very hard; he’s gripping the steering wheel tightly.  


Eventually the car pulls into a deserted back alley. It’s creepy, and it’s not the kind of place good people usually go, but that’s because they have a special secret. When Dad presses a button on the dashboard a red-brick wall rises, revealing a hidden garage. As soon as the car is fully in, it closes behind them, too quickly for anyone to notice that anything’s happened. It’s one of their special hide-outs, like a club-house, but way cooler. There are all sorts of cool weapons and computers, and a bunch of trick arrows on the wall. As awesome as it is, though, Lian knows they’re going somewhere even more awesome.  


Lian can barely contain her excitement as she opens the door and leaps out of the car. Abbey is just as impatient; she squirms eagerly as Dad comes to help her out of the restraining seat. Lian taps her foot impatiently. It wouldn't have taken so long if Abbey could just learn to sit _still_.  


“Alright, girls,” Dad says, motioning towards the zeta-tubes (as if they need any urging.) He walks up towards the big computer, his fingers skipping across a holographic monitor that appears out of thin air. A familiar female robotic voice rings out.  


**“Recognised. Red Arrow, 2-1. Lian Nguyen-Harper, C-01. Abigail West-Crock, C-04.”**   


Lian’s heart is thumping in anticipation. She’s done this plenty of times, but she doesn't think she’ll ever get tired of it.  


School is pretty boring. Most of the other kids dislike her, people make fun of her and there’s a lot of stuff she’s not allowed to talk about. She spends her whole day waiting to leave. This is what she lives for.  


Nothing feels better than walking into the big, gaping metal hole of the zeta-tube, feeling energy build around her, making her hair stand on end; then there’s the bright light that engulfs her, and the fizzy feeling, just for a moment, like she’s running incredibly fast but remaining completely still.  


Well, maybe that’s completely true. After today, Lian can’t help but feel that fighting makes her feel even better than a trip in a zeta-tube.  
Still, stepping out into the grandeur of the Justice League Watchtower is a close second.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was motivated by three things;  
> 1) The urge to write something to fill YJ's void.  
> 2) The knowledge that Lian was treated....less than well in the main DC universe.  
> 3) Wondering just how weird it must be to actually get raised by super-heroes. Because seriously...that must be kind of weird.


End file.
